


We Intertwined

by LillySteam44



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-24
Updated: 2019-06-24
Packaged: 2020-05-18 16:03:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19337875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LillySteam44/pseuds/LillySteam44
Summary: MacCready knew his time in the Gunners was going to come to a close sooner or later, but he had no idea what he was in for when they took a young woman for ransom.The poor man just wanted some cigarettes.





	We Intertwined

MacCready frowned as he opened his last pack of cigarettes. He only had a few left in the beat up box, but he needed the stress relief, so he took one out and lit it. He tried to focus on the feeling of the nicotine hit instead of whatever awful thing he'd have to do later that day. Winlock had greatly talked up the number of caps they'd get from their next mission, and that usually meant a kidnapping. If he was lucky, it would be some old Upper Stands jacka- jerk that he wouldn't feel sorry for. Well, if he was lucky at all, he wouldn't be in this situation in the first place, but he'd take what he could get from life. He was just glad he was assigned guard duty, not retrieval. Retrieval was the literal worst. 

At least he was glad until they brought in the target. They were not some crusty, stuck up socialite from the Upper Stands, but a girl. She looked young, barely twenty, bound, gagged, and slung over the shoulder of one of the bigger guys. Her road leathers covered most of her body, but the scars on her arms spoke of hard work, and he figured she was the daughter of one of the local settlement leaders. He tried to quell the nausea building in the pit of his stomach. He’d been trying to tell himself that Gunners weren't raiders, but he couldn't make any more excuses for his platoon when they threw her into a cage without bothering to untie her.

“Did you leave the ransom note?” was all Barnes asked when he came to check on the retrieval squad. Almost as a secondary thought, Barnes looked at the girl and nodded his approval. “You managed to get her in one piece. Good work. They’ll pay more to keep her that way.” Nausea rose up again, worse than before, bubbling up from the pit of Macready’s stomach. He tried once again to swallow it and lit another cigarette to help calm his nerves. It almost worked, at least until he glanced at the girl again without meaning to. 

There was a fire in her eyes as she stared daggers at an unaware Barnes, and it took him a second to realize she was staring at the gun on his hip and not picturing a yao gui mauling him. It was a revolver, very far removed from Barnes’ normal automatic laser pistol, and it wasn't hard to guess it was her weapon. Quickly, he looked away from her and stared, hard, at the ground in front of him to try to focus on his cigarette instead. But her eyes were burned into his mind, and every time he blinked he saw them. 

In a few hours, the night would come and he'd replace the day sniper for guard duty. There were always fewer people then; he could untie her most likely, at least, and give her what little dignity he could manage. It wasn't uncommon for him to snag a box of Fancy Lads for his guard shift for the late night sugar boost, so he could probably get away with having two on hand. He couldn't imagine the idiots in charge planned on feeding her all that often. Before he could stop himself, he realized he’d started to sound like he fancied himself her savior or something and disgust started to well up deep in his guts. He knew better than to think he was a good person. R.J MacCready was not a good person, not after the things he had done. Abandoning the line of thought, he put out his cigarette and took the elevator up to take a visit to the mess hall.

 

MacCready had almost forgotten about the girl by the time he took the elevator back down to ground level. He had managed to eat and even rest a little, but the nauseous feeling crested again when he spotted that stupid cage. At some point, someone had thought to untie her, because she was no longer huddled in the same position. She watched everyone move around and do their jobs with sharp eyes, even as they ignored her entire existence. There was a hard edge to that stare he rarely saw in the victim of a Gunner kidnapping, and he got the feeling that if she managed to get out of this shit hole, one way or another, she would burn the whole thing to the ground. He took a deep breath as the elevator finally landed and vaguely nodded at the day time guard team as he stepped off and they filtered on in the same daily routines as they always did.

His normal post was on top of the building, but he set his supply bag next to a chair not far from the cage tonight. The snack cakes he brought down, two boxes instead of one, went on a little table nearby before taking his rifle from his makeshift sling on his back and started to check to make sure it was loaded and there were no new issues since the last time he'd cleaned it. He went over the rifle with practiced hands, knowing it inside and out. What was a man in the wasteland without his gun after all? He fiddled with his rifle, checking the alignment of the sights and making sure the suppressor was still on snug until the last of the day guards had retreated to their beds on top of the overpass. There were other night guards, of course, but there were far fewer and they were more spread out. MacCready had always preferred the quiet of the night anyway, and tonight he didn't think he could stomach the posturing the Gunners seemed to delight in. He wasn't sure how he ever managed to convince himself they were anything more than a slightly better organized, more militaristic, group of raiders.

As alone as he was going to be, he set his gun on the chair he'd claimed and opened the first box of snack cakes.

“Are you hungry?” he asked. For the first time, she leveled her gaze at him, her eyes narrowed in obvious distrust. He couldn't really blame her, but it still made him feel like she was seeing into his very soul. There was no way she hadn't seen him around the camp when she was brought in, though it still felt like she really looking at him for the first time and he wasn't sure he liked being under her scrutiny.

“I am, actually,” she finally admitted. He stepped closer and held out the unopened box.

“Sorry if you don't like sweets. It's what I normally grab,” he said. She narrowed her eyes again, if only for a moment, but still accepted the box.

“No, these are great. Couldn't get enough of them when I was carrying Shaun,” she replied in an offhand manner as she tore into the box and the first individually wrapped cake. The almost-too sweet cake he had just bitten into turned dry and tasteless in his mouth as he realized the implication of what she said. And despite her casual tone, she knew exactly what she was letting slip when she said it. She was a mother, and she wanted him to know that she had a little boy waiting for her at home. MacCready tried not to picture his own child, his own little boy, waiting at home too.

“Lucy only ever wanted Sugar Bombs, when she had my boy,” he volunteered. If she was going to pluck on his heartstrings for sympathy, he could do the same. When she came back to get her gun and burn everything down, just maybe he might not end up with a bullet in his head. Based on the way her eyes softened, he suspected it worked too.

Silence once again stretched between them as they ate their cakes. He made a cursory attempt to do his job as a night guard, but he knew he wasn't far from leaving this outfit and he couldn't really bring himself to care too much. He really just needed a little bit of a net under him before he’d cut and run from the Gunners. He couldn't risk a break in the funds he sent down south.

“So what settlement did these idiots grab you from?” he asked suddenly, in order to stop his thoughts from creeping towards very uncomfortable territory. It was b-0etter to keep talking, to keep his mind busy. Maybe then he wouldn’t let his brain linger, let bad thoughts crawl up his spine like spiders in a web. He was aware she was staring again, but he wasn't really paying too much attention to her.

“Abernathy Farm,” she replied after another long silence. That actually broke him out of his downward spiraling thoughts and he turned his eyes on her as his mind latched onto a brand new, chilling thought.

“Isn't that a Minuteman controlled settlement?” he asked. He didn't bother masking the concern in his voice. A few weeks ago, he would have laughed at the idea of being worried over the Minutemen, but that was before word trickled down from a Gunner outpost a little farther north. The story went that an average kidnapping from Tenpines Bluff had caught the attention of the new Minuteman General, and they had razed the outpost and killed every Gunner stationed there to free the settler. No one was entirely sure it really happened like that since there were no survivors, but MacCready had a feeling this woman with steel in her eyes could easily have done just that.

“That’s right. The second or third joined up after the mess at Quincy,” she supplied. Da- dang, he needed a cigarette. It was only a matter of time before the General showed up here too. He patted his pockets for his pack, but only found the lighter he’d scavenged for himself the last time he left the Interchange, and he barely kept himself from hissing out a curse. This day was just getting worse and worse.

“What’s wrong?” her voice sounded so innocent, but she was too perceptive not to know already.

“You mean besides that fact Winlock thought it was clever to take a Minuteman settler after that shi- stuff with Tenpines, and the General is probably planning a rescue op right the second?” he said. “I'm out of cigarettes, so I'm going to die a jittery mess.” The woman just stared at him, likely processing his outburst. Her eyes lacked the malice from earlier, though distrust still laced her gaze if lightened from before.

“You don't have to die,” she said, softly. “You could let me go.”

“The key to your cage is likely on Barnes’ belt, along with that shiny gun of yours,” he told her. “Even if I could open the lock, you’d be super mutant food without your pistol.”

“Then come with me,” she said. He gaped at her, blinking stupidly. She had not just suggested that...

“Gunners pay good caps. I need-" he started, but she cut him off.

“Caps are no good if you’re dead,” she said. “You need them for your son, for Lucy, don't you?” He was starting to regret telling her anything about his family, even if it had made sense at the time. “If you see me back safely, I’ll make sure you get a hefty cap reward.”

She was suggesting it. She was seriously suggesting it. And he was seriously considering it. 

Oh no. 

He sighed and lifted his cap to run his hand through his hair as a nervous gesture. He really wished he had saved at least one cigarette or thought to swipe a new pack from someone not looking after their things.

“Let's say I did agree, though I'm definitely not making any promises, there’s still the problem of the key,” he said. “I couldn't even try to get it until morning, and there are too many day guards.”

“If you have just one bobby pin, I can pick the lock. I can pick almost any lock, and most of those blindfolded,” she said. He glanced away from her, as he tried to convince himself one way or the other. He really didn't want to stay with the Gunners, not long term, but he couldn't be certain she wouldn’t put a bullet in his back the second she managed to get her hands on a gun. Out of habit, he reached into his pocket for his cigarettes and was disappointed yet again when he found nothing. “If it's cigarettes you want, there’s more than you could ever smoke in my pack back at Abernathy Farm.”

MacCready sighed and brought his hand out of his jacket pocket to fidget with his hat, still in his hands. He really couldn't believe he was seriously considering turning on the Gunners for cigarettes. He settled his cap back on his head, hair sufficiently mussed. After only a moment of turning over his choices, he found his box of bobby pins and drew one out along with the small screwdriver he reserved for his rare attempts at lock picking.

“Fine. One chance, if you can get out of there, I’ll get you back safe,” he said. He made sure the other guards weren't paying attention and slipped her the tools.

“You won't regret this, I promise,” she said as she accepted them and quickly got to work. Despite the lock facing away from her, within a minute he heard the soft click of the lock opening. “That was too easy, even doing it backward. I really should tell that boss of yours how stupid it is to cheap out on locks.”

“I didn't just risk my neck so you could get us both immediately killed,” he snapped, risking a glance at her. “We have to move now before someone sees and raises an alarm.”

“Good point. Directions are difficult without my PipBoy, but Abernathy Farm is north of here,” she said. Still not quite believing he was doing this, he picked up his pack and settled it on his shoulder. It certainly wasn't unheard of for people to desert the Gunners in the night, but no one ever freed the poor saps in the ransom cages, at least, no one but the General.

“Lay on, MacDuff,” he said and gestured in a vaguely northern direction.

She looked at him, her head tilted slightly. “You've read Shakespeare?”

“Move,” he hissed, ignoring the stupid question. That seemed to snap her out of whatever her weird train of thought was and she was quick to start moving. It wasn't a run, per se, but she stuck to shadows and he tried to copy her movements until they were mostly clear of the camp. He hated traveling at night, but they needed to get as far away from the Interchange as possible before anyone noticed them missing. They were a good mile away before he relaxed at all, though he probably wouldn't be able to completely relax until he made it inside one of the walled cities. Diamond City was too uptight for his liking, but maybe he’d head to Goodneighbor after he saw this settler back to Abernathy Farm.

He was trying to figure out how this new turn of events factored into the promise he’d made before he left the Capitol Wastes when the girl, he really needed to ask her name, got his attention and pointed off into the distance, where a small group of super mutants hadn't spotted them yet. Before she could even put her hand down, he brought his scope up to his eye and was already lining up the first shot. Three shots, muffled by his silencer, met their mark and three super mutants went down. She made an appreciative noise beside him as he lowered his gun again. 

“You're a good shot,” was all she said before she ran forward to pick through what little loot the mutants would have had on them. She ignored the boards muties always seemed to carry and picked up a double-barreled shotgun with a grin. MacCready just reloaded his rifle while she poked through pockets for shotgun shells. He tried not to eye her too closely as she loaded two of the few shells she found into the gun. He didn't really think she would put a bullet in his back, but there was always the chance.

“So what's your name, anyway?” he asked and by the way she tensed, he knew he wouldn't be taking point any time soon.

“I was wondering when you were going to ask. Now, please don't be mad,” she said. She was still tense, but she didn't raise her scavenged shotgun at him. In fact, her hands moved in an anxious pattern nowhere near the trigger guard.

“Why the he- heck would I be mad?” he asked. He narrowed his eyes at her.

“I'm Ella Ward,” she said. Her eyes darted down and away. With far less confidence she added, “General of the Minutemen.”

MacCready breathed out slowly as all sorts of little details clicked into place. That was why the Gunners had wanted her, and why Barnes had been so sure they'd get a big payday. He had no idea what to say and as the silence stretched, her eyes got more and more worried by the second.

“I wasn't lying when I said you'd get rewarded,” she said quickly to fill the quiet. Her eyes were still lowered, fixed on her hands as she babbled. “I technically never lied at all. I just didn't say and, well, you didn't ask until now.”

As her nerves showed more and more, she appeared far more as the scared young woman he assumed she was earlier that day, instead of the general with fire in her eyes that had talked him into betraying the Gunners. MacCready still wasn't sure that gamble would pay off, but he knew he had made the morally correct decision, one he could tell Duncan about when he wrote his next letter.

“Ward? It's fine. I'm not mad,” he finally said. Her eyes snapped up to meet his.

“Really? I just thought that, well since I wasn't exactly forthcoming-”

“It's really fine,” he cut her off before she could let her nerves get the better of her again. “I understand. You can’t really trust me. I’m a Gunner.”

“You were a Gunner,” she corrected a little too smug for MacCready’s taste. “I don't think they'll consider you one of them now.”

He really had no response to that. She was right, but it really hadn't yet sunk in for him. He was free, at least for now. He glanced behind them, though the overpass was long out of sight.

“We should keep moving,” he finally said to break the silence. She nodded and with that, they continued their trek north.

 

There was little resistance along the road north. Outside of that first short encounter with the super mutants, he killed a few mongrels that had tried to take a bite out of them, but it was far and away an easier route than the one he took to Goodneighbor when he got a little r&r away from the base. Even still, the quiet of the night made him jumpy as he cataloged every tiny noise in the darkness.

For what it was worth, the General kept her cool. She was far more confident with a weapon in her hands, even though it was clear she wasn't terribly experienced with shotguns. Occasionally, she would glance at him and he tried not to fidget under her gaze, despite the fact he was certain she was uneasy with him. It probably didn’t help that he had his rifle at the ready, but it provided too much peace of mind for him to put it away until they reached her settlement. He hadn’t quite thought ahead to what would happen after that, but he didn’t have the energy to think about it yet.

“So,” she said after an hour or so of walking. She didn’t really look at him, though, and her hands moved in that same nervous pattern. “How long have you been using rifles?”

“Uh, about a decade, I guess,” he replied. “Pistols for longer, but those are only good short range. I learned early that the farther away you can be, the better.”

She made a noise but MacCready couldn't even begin to decipher what the hel- heck it meant. She didn't say anything further, so he didn't. They were quiet for the rest of the morning. The sun has long since peeked over the horizon and the rainbow of light the sunrise always brought with it had faded into the normal gray-blue color of a sunny day. If he had to guess, he would say it was maybe seven or eight in the morning and the settlement should be coming up soon.

His guess was spot on, it seemed when within ten minutes, he could see a farm under an old electrical tower in the distance. General Ward got this goofy smile on her face that yet again reminded MacCready that she was young. She wasn’t a seasoned veteran, or some private army brat despite her title. She was like him, young and probably in over her head. He expected her to dart ahead in her excitement to get back, but she didn't. She kept pace with him right up to the fence around the property line. A girl weeding the tatos looked up at them as they approached and did a double take. She stood and shook the dirt from her knees and then her hands.

"Daddy! Mr. Garvey! Ella's back!" she shouted as she turned towards the farmhouse. She went to go run towards it, but two men and a woman came out to see. One of the men, probably not her father from the darker skin tone, came running out to them. 

"General! I was afraid we'd lost you. They left a note but with Gunners-" he said, ecstatic until he noticed MacCready there next to her. He hadn't taken a blood type tattoo when he signed up, but MacCready was sure he still looked every bit the Gunner he had been yesterday. The man narrowed his eyes him and MacCready was already trying to figure out how to get out of this without getting shot by the impressive laser weapon in the man's hands.

"And who are you, exactly?"

The general's eyes went wide as seemed to realize she had yet to ask his name. It would almost be funny if he wasn't scared.

"RJ MacCready," he offered in an attempt to get ahead of this conflict. "I helped General Ward escape the camp down at the Interchange."

"Why would you do that?"

"Preston!" She chided. "This isn't necessary-"

He knew she meant well, but he knew how this would go down. This man, Preston Garvey he figured, wouldn't let this go until his questions were answered well enough.

"Honestly, after what went down after that kidnapping at Tenpines? The second she said she was from a Minuteman settlement, I knew the Interchange would be next," MacCready explained. "They pay good caps, and I have a family to take care of, but they're no good if I'm dead."

Garvey opened his mouth to say something else, but the general cut him off.

"That's enough, Preston," she said with that hard glare in her eye. He was starting to think of that as her General face. "We talked about this. If we don't give people second chances, then they're raiders forever. We have to give people a chance to change."

Garvey closed his mouth into a deep frown. He gave MacCready one last glare and turned his attention back to General Ward.

"Well, I'm glad your back, anyway. We were just talking about whether or not we should pay the ransom," Garvey gestured to the couple behind him. The girl who spotted them as they approached had gone back to weeding the crops.

"I know you said never to give in," the man said, "but that's when we have you to come in and save the day. When they grabbed you-"

"It's okay, Mr. Abernathy, you were doing the best you could," the general. "If you could kindly point me to where you've stored my things, I think my companion and I could use some sleep."

"General, I don't think that they're going to give up-" Garvey tried, but withered under her glare once again. 

"I'm aware what the Gunners are likely to do next, but I can't do anything if I'm too tired to think." She didn't leave room for him to respond and turned back to Abernathy. "My things, please. And if you would be willing to spare two beds for a few hours, I would appreciate it."

"I don't need to stick around," MacCready tried. "Now that you're safe, I can head out."

"Nonsense," she said and he didn't want to test his luck by arguing further. Abernathy also gave MacCready a pointed once over, but wisely chose not to say anything. He wasn’t above lifting things, of course, but MacCready knew better than to try anything now, especially while he’d be under heavy scrutiny. He motioned for them to follow and lead them into the farmhouse and to what looked like a hallway that went nowhere, off to one side. A couple of mostly clean mattresses were lined up lengthwise, with a pillow and blanket each. It wasn't the fanciest accommodations but it was about on par with what he had at the outpost.

“Oh, good, there it is,” he heard her mutter to herself as she beelined for a backpack and a PipBoy left next to one of the bed. She buckled the PipBoy onto her wrist even though she had just insisted on getting some rest. “I’m never letting this thing out of my sight again. Now let’s see what I can scrape together for you.”

He didn’t want to admit it, but he was nervous. He hadn’t really decided what he was going to do after General Ward was safe, but he didn’t think this would be it. He was sure she would make good on her promises, one way or another, but he didn’t think he was welcome for much longer. Plus, Garvey was right. There was no way that Winlock and Barnes were going to take this lying down. They’d be back in full force, and he didn’t want to be anywhere near Abernathy Farm when it happened. If he took off now, it could him only a day to get out to Goodneighbor. It took longer with a group, but he just had to worry about himself, now. Well, he only had to worry about himself and Duncan. He sat on the free mattress just to seem less awkward, but he didn’t think he’d be able to sleep. The general poked through her bag, pushing things around and occasionally pulling something out to sit beside her.

“So, uh,” she started while she was in the middle of counting quietly to herself, “have you thought about what you’re going to do from here?”

“Not really? I thought I might head to Goodneighbor,” he said. “The girl that runs the general store owes me a favor, so I might set up shop there and merc for a while.” She made that same little noise from earlier and it made him nervous. He considered leaving after she fell asleep. Instead of responding, she pulled a drawstring bag out of her backpack.

“Here, 300 caps,” she said. “You can double count it if you’d like. I’m still getting used to caps, so I’m sorry if it’s not enough. This is most of what I have on me.”

He felt weird, accepting the bag, but he really couldn’t afford to turn it down. He didn’t have it in him to count them like some miser so he just shoved the whole bag into his own cap stash without opening it. 

“Now that's over with, we can move on. If you’re going to be taking mercenary jobs, how much do you charge per job?”

“250,” he said immediately, not sure he liked where this was going. “But, I’m not sure why that matters.”

“Because I’m going to hire you,” she said. “I need to get to Goodneighbor myself, so we’re going the same way. I could use an extra gun if you don’t mind stopping in Diamond City on the way. I just have to swing up north when I’m not dead tired to get your fee to you.”

“General-” he started but she shook her head.

“Oh, no, I’m not taking this ‘General’ crap from you,” she said. She crossed her arms and, once again, he was reminded how young she was. “You do not need to be formal. Just call me Ella.”

“Fine, Ella-” he tried again, but she cut him off once again.

“Oh! I believe I promised you cigarettes,” she said suddenly. She reached back into her backpack and pulled pack after pack after pack until there were six or seven in a neat little pile in the space between their mattresses. “I have more back at home, these are just the ones I picked up at the satellite station I cleared out for Mr. Abernathy.”

He didn’t think she was going to let him say no to her job offer. He wasn’t going to question his current good fortune and threw the cigarettes into his own pack. He didn’t think he’d seen so many packs of cigarettes outside of the commissary back at the Gunner outpost. He still didn’t think he was going to sleep so he pulled out a cigarette from one of the packs and patted his pockets until he found his lighter. He’d go outside and have a cigarette and then take a nap if he was able. Then everything would be okay.

He still couldn’t believe he had left the Gunners for cigarettes. He probably was going to leave that out of his next letter to Duncan.

**Author's Note:**

> So I intended this to be a one-shot, but I have ideas for further parts. If y'all are interested please let me know. As a fair warning, though, these further parts will probably include smut at some point.


End file.
